In Which Roger Takes Care of Mark
by Meitantei Conan
Summary: [ONESHOT][One sided MR] Beyond his tough exterior, he cares. He tries. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes he fails. In the end, he only wishes the best for Mark Cohen.


_Author's Notes:_ Been a while since I've written RENT fic in a long while. This is written for Rizzy and Nina. I heart them both.

---------

**In Which Roger Takes Care of Mark**

**i.** He can't sleep. Then again, he can hardly sleep. When Roger climbs out of bed, he quietly curses the chilled flooring and slips out in hopes of making some of their shit-brand coffee. However, he notices the light emanating from Mark's editing machines and knows there's a Mark amongst the scraps of film somewhere.

As he approaches the steel table, he notices the blond has his face practically stuck to its top, having fallen asleep in the middle of his editing. Roger just shakes his head and turns off the glowing machine, only to help his friend into bed minutes later.

**ii.** "Roger, that fucking _hurts_." A laugh. Mark wriggled about in the man's grasp, finding that the rocker's arm that was curled around his neck was far too strong. Trying to pry himself away from the other's hold, the film maker sighed in defeat and merely waited until his friend released him. 

"You're a wuss, Marky." Even though Roger really meant to say 'you don't smile enough'.

But Mark just laughed again, "I know, I know."

**iii**. God, Roger needs this hit. He needs one last go to send the throbbing in his veins away. He needs something to ease the burning-fucking-hateful pain that is welling up through every inch of him. He has his hand on the door and is so close, so _close_ to leaving but as he looks up to see Mark watching him, blue eyes blazing and _daring _ him, he turns back and sits on the couch.

Roger still needs it. Roger still hates himself for needing it. It's for Mark that he keeps away from it, because when he does, Mark never hides.

**iv.** His inspiration is gone. He feels as though he's lost everything and he knows Mark is having the same problem. He knows Mark can't write anymore either and he wonders if it's his fault. He wonders if he was the one to cause his own downfall as well as Mark's.

Some artist.

Roger tries to play, though. He tries as hard as he honestly can to write _something_, to play something because Mark is always inspired by his music. Mark always seems to come to life with every note played. But Roger can't come up with anything so he just plays the drowning Musetta.

This is enough, though.

Roger hates it, but it's enough to put the life back in those blue eyes.

**v.** Mark's dancing--- if that could be called dancing --- on the tables and he's laughing and oh, Roger's sure he's never seen something so amazing. When he has the camera in his hands, he's moving and watching, filming everything that Mark does because he knows he might not see this again.

Mark leaps off the table and tumbles in against him, but he just laughs. In fact, they both laugh and embrace because they simply can.

The filmmaker is smiling and Roger is smiling, but Roger's soul still feels restless. He still feels trapped and awkward, even amongst his friends. He still has unanswered questions and paranoias. But for tonight, he forgets them because Mark needs this.

Mark needs to surrender everything, if only one night.

**vi.** Detaching, Roger finds, is not the best way to handle things. He sees it happen every day, though. He sees it as Angel becomes very sick. He sees it as they're all hugging Collins. He sees it in every eulogy given, in every tear shed. He sees it in those damn blue eyes.

He sees it.

He screams, cries, yells himself hoarse so that Mark can understand. So that Mark will see, too. So that, when the time comes, Mark won't be totally alone. Mark won't be broken, batter, lost, hurt... 

And Roger walks out the door, but he won't stay gone forever--- he couldn't. He knows that he's a walking time bomb and, if he's going to explode, he wants Mark to be ready.

**vii.** The music doesn't sound the same when he's not home. The music always sounds sour or as though it is missing something. It sounds like it's falling apart with every drifting chord. This and Mimi's illness drives him home.

He knows this is the best choice he's ever made because Mark's smile is real.

_Real._

**viii.** When Mimi pulled through and Collins drifted off to teach again, they're left alone in the loft. Everything feels much more spacious, but it is still home. Mark still works on film, Roger still writes half-assed songs and this is what they're used to. To anyone else, nothing would have changed.

But Roger can tell that there's something different.

Mark sits down and just smiles. Smiles because he can and Roger smiles back.

They're not perfect and they're most certainly not okay, but for once, Roger is convinced that they will be.


End file.
